At lunch recently, a friend recalled her heated response several years ago when her brother, a long-time Christian, informed her that he was divorcing his wife. She got in his face and asked angrily, “Who raised you?! It couldn’t have been my parents!” That ugly conversation drove a wedge between them that lasted for years until she apologized.

This story came up during a conversation about church discipline and how to do it “right”. Many of us have seen it done wrong, where a brother or sister overcome in a sin is either riddled with a virtual shotgun blast of condemnation that says: “You are worthless, you are repulsive, you are rejected by God and by us!”, or conversely given a free pass in the name of grace that lets them sink in the quicksand of their ongoing sin, often dragging others in the church down with them.

Where is the Father’s heart in all this?

Let’s start with where it is not: disrespect for the brother or sister caught in a sin. James 3:9-10 says:   ^“With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be.”

Church discipline has to start with a deep understanding of the high status of the one being rebuked. You are speaking to someone made in God’s likeness. Show proper fear of the Lord and humility in your approach to them.

“Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently. But watch yourselves, or you also may be tempted.”  (Gal 6:1)

“Do not rebuke an older man harshly, but exhort him as if he were your father. Treat younger men as brothers, older women as mothers, and younger women as sisters, with absolute purity.” (1 Timothy 5:1-2)

So how does that look in practice? Jesus laid out the sequence to be used in personal offenses, starting with a respectful private conversation:  “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained (won back) your brother.” (Matthew 18:15)

The goal is winning back something of immense value that’s in danger of being lost. It’s not about you! If you are living by the Spirit and walking in constant forgiveness—forgiving friends and enemies alike–you’ll be able to shed offenses like water off a duck’s back. Your heart’s concern should be the spiritual welfare of the sinning brother.

What if he doesn’t listen to you? “But if they will not listen, take one or two others along, so that ‘every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.’ If they still refuse to listen, tell it to the church; and if they refuse to listen even to the church, treat them as you would a pagan or a tax collector.” (Matthew 18:16-17)

This is a sobering progression from the status of a believer in fellowship with Christ and his Church to that of someone excluded from fellowship and viewed essentially as a traitor to the faith. Pagans worshipped other gods, but tax collectors were Jews who had turned against their own people. They were shunned.

Does this mean you finally have permission to treat the unrepentant brother the way he “deserves”? To pull out that virtual shotgun and riddle him with all the self-righteous words you so patiently held back earlier?

Um, no.

The church at Corinth had a lot of problems, including a gross misunderstanding about grace. The Corinthian believers, mostly Gentiles, came from a culture that celebrated and encouraged sexual immorality, and they translated the forgiveness purchased by Jesus’ blood into complete freedom to sin without consequence:

“It is actually reported that there is sexual immorality among you, and of a kind that even pagans do not tolerate: A man is sleeping with his father’s wife.  And you are proud! Shouldn’t you rather have gone into mourning and have put out of your fellowship the man who has been doing this?” (1 Cor 5:1-2)

Our response to a stubbornly unrepentant believer should be mourning even as the errant brother is excluded from both the church and individual fellowship.

^“I wrote to you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people—  not at all meaning the people of this world who are immoral, or the greedy and swindlers, or idolaters. In that case you would have to leave this world. But now I am writing to you that you must not associate with anyone who claims to be a brother or sister but is sexually immoral or greedy, an idolater or slanderer, a drunkard or swindler. Do not even eat with such people. What business is it of mine to judge those outside the church? Are you not to judge those inside?  God will judge those outside. Expel the wicked person from among you.” (1 Cor 5:9-13)

^“Warn a divisive person once, and then warn them a second time. After that, have nothing to do with them.” (Titus 3:10)

This is where a wail of discord rises from churches across the nation. “Where is the love?” they ask. “Wouldn’t it better to keep them connected to the church than to push them out? What if they never come back?”

Indeed, many don’t. But Jesus made it clear that it is wrong to value a human relationship—even our closest and most cherished of relationships–above him:

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26, also Matthew 10:34-39)

An example of getting it wrong can be found in 1 Samuel 2. Eli, the high priest, verbally chided his sons (“Why do you do such things? I hear from all the people about these wicked deeds of yours.  No, my sons; the report I hear spreading among the Lord’s people is not good!”) but failed to discipline them or remove them from their offices as priests. In v.29 God asked painfully, “Why do you honor your sons more than me…?” before pronouncing judgment on both Eli and his sons.

Love and discipline are not incompatible. They are inseparable. Hebrews 12 shows the Father’s heart toward his children in discipline. It is a demonstration of his deep love, done for their benefit, not for his. God’s eyes always remain on the long-term prize (“that we may share in his holiness”) rather than short-term outcomes.

Sometimes he has to use extreme measures to accomplish his purpose, as with the Corinthian brother who was engaged in sexual immorality. Paul wrote: “For my part, even though I am not physically present, I am with you in spirit. As one who is present with you in this way, I have already passed judgment in the name of our Lord Jesus on the one who has been doing this. So when you are assembled and I am with you in spirit, and the power of our Lord Jesus is present, hand this man over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that his spirit may be saved on the day of the Lord.” (1 Cor 5:3-5)

(For those who might not be familiar with this story, let me insert a spoiler here: it has a happy ending. We’ll get to it later.)

The Father is more concerned with long-term gain than short-term pain. The pain isn’t limited to the one being disciplined. The hearts of those administering church discipline must be prepared to suffer deeply. There is no easy way out, no half-measure, once it comes to the point of putting a beloved but unrepentant brother or sister out of fellowship. At that point it moves beyond just the one person’s sin to serve as a warning to the church as a whole:

“Those who continue in sin, rebuke in the presence of all, so that the rest also will be fearful of sinning.” (1 Tim 5:20)

God is dead serious about holiness in his Church, and he expects us to be serious about it as well.

“Will you steal and murder, commit adultery and perjury, burn incense to Baal and follow other gods you have not known,  and then come and stand before me in this house, which bears my Name, and say, ‘We are safe’—safe to do all these detestable things?  Has this house, which bears my Name, become a den of robbers to you? But I have been watching!’ declares the Lord.” (Jeremiah 7:9-11)

It’s all about the heart: the heart of the sinner and the heart of the one gently, humbly, respectfully calling him back to repentance. Repentance can’t be forced. You might bully someone into admitting their sin, and possibly even into promising to do better… but that is not repentance. Repentance comes from a heart of godly sorrow:

“Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death.  See what this godly sorrow has produced in you: what earnestness, what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what alarm, what longing, what concern, what readiness to see justice done!” (2 Cor 7:10)

Zaccheus is a good example of that kind of repentance. He was a chief tax collector, a traitor who stole from his own people. Then Jesus called him by name: “Zaccheus!” (Hebrew: זכי‎, “pure”, “innocent“), and he suddenly had a change of heart.

^“But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, ‘Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.’” (Luke 19:8) His repentance was demonstrated through both his words and actions. He demonstrated the “fruit of repentance”. (Matt 3:8)

Another example is our dear brother from Corinth who was heading for a possible Ananias and Sapphira type encounter. (See Acts 5). It appears that the whole Corinth church body followed Paul’s instruction to put him out of fellowship, causing him to experience such deep sorrow that Paul became concerned for him: ^“The punishment inflicted on him by the majority is sufficient.  Now instead, you ought to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow. I urge you, therefore, to reaffirm your love for him.” (2 Cor 2:6-8)

This is amazing grace. This is the heart of the Father.

I’d like to end with some thoughts about the “Discipline Success Story” told by Jesus himself: the prodigal son. (Luke 15:11-32)

First, raise your hand if you’ve always secretly thought the prodigal’s father was way too easy on his “bad” son and way too hard on his “good” son. Now keep it up if you’re thinking, “WHAT discipline?? I don’t remember the prodigal’s father doing any discipline!”

Let’s walk through the story with new eyes.

In this household, the father’s values were made clear. He was affluent, having jewelry and fine clothing (v22), plentiful livestock (v23) and hired servants (v17), but he was generous: even the servants had “food to spare”. He was also generous with his sons; everything he had was theirs to enjoy while they lived with him (v31). Both sons could have celebrated with their friends at any time as long as they honored their father’s household rules, which clearly embraced generosity, feasting, music and dancing (v25) but not wild living or prostitutes (v30).

He had standards, and both sons knew that.

The younger son was a rebel. He asked for his entire inheritance to be turned over to him even though his father was neither sick nor dead–a highly unusual and inappropriate request and a clear red flag to any parent who was paying attention. This young man was planning to go his own way!

The father could have refused the request. He could have exerted manipulative control by holding it back “for his own good”. Instead, he enabled his adult son to leave by handing over his inheritance prematurely. Sure enough, “Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living” (v13).

It’s all about the heart. If the father saw the young man’s behavior as the most important thing, he probably could have controlled and bullied him to achieve that goal, at least for a time. If he saw the most important thing as “staying connected” to his son, he could have lowered his standards and allowed him to bring prostitutes into the house. Instead, he let him go.

It had to be a heartrending decision. Even then he didn’t focus all his attention on the rebel son. He made sure the older son also received his share without having to ask. This father noticed both his sons. He then watched the horizon for his lost son, yearning for his return but not mounting a rescue.

In the distant country, the son’s partying had quickly turned sour. His money was gone, famine was on the land, and he was starving. “He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything” (v16).

That’s when he remembered his father’s house. The generosity. The kindness. The provision. He came to his senses.

That was where, as with Zaccheus, the genuineness of his repentance became evident. He was humbled and broken and sorrowful. “I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ (v18-19)

His father, ever watching, saw him at a great distance. Filled with compassion at his son’s wretched state, he ran down the road to welcome him home, hugging and kissing him. He interrupted the young man’s broken apology by yelling for servants to bring robes, rings, sandals! Food! Music! Dancing! “For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!” (v24)

The heart of the rebel son had been changed, and the father’s heart rejoiced.

The story doesn’t end there. In the midst of the noisy celebration, the father noticed the absence of his older son, the one who had quietly stayed at home and done all the right things. He found him sulking outside, angry over the fuss being made over the one who did all the wrong things. The father pleaded with him to come inside and join the party. (v28)

But like the all-day laborers in the vineyard who were offended by the latecomers receiving the same wages (Matt 20), the older son felt entitled to more. “Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!” (v29-30)

The father replied gently, “My son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.” The fact was, the more restrictive rules the elder son had imposed upon himself were of his own making. He had denied himself freedoms and blessings always available to him, then blamed the father for withholding them. He had not because he asked not.

The father could have easily added, like the landowner with the vineyard: “Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?” (Mat 20:15)

All too often, a difficult case of church discipline that should end neatly with the repentance and joyful restoration of a lost brother and sister instead ends with grumbling among the righteous “older brothers” in the congregation. They find God’s generosity toward a repentant sinner slightly offensive, like a bad smell. But in God’s upside-down economy where the humble are exalted and the last become first, the repentant sinner holds a special place in God’s heart:

^“Then Jesus told them this parable: ‘Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.” (Luke 15:3-7)

It’s all about the heart.

© 2015 Deborah Morris

Questions or Comments?